After all, what could he teach a girl who got straight A’s in school and wanted to go to an Ivy League college? And yet, today, what I remember from college seems like a blur of
intellectual trivia compared to the simple lessons of my father...
The garment surrounds our body, the fringes hang off it. They represent the two aspects of G-d's being: His true self that is totally beyond our grasp, and the tiny fraction of His being we can experience
I'm not talking about a small fine or even some lashes. This could mean that my father, and maybe even me, would sit in a dark and dingy jail cell. A wave of heat overcame my body.
How do we take religion out of the once-a-week class? How does one acquire a feeling of (and for) religion? Where does one derive the strength to live by religious ideals, even in moments of weakness?
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